


The Best Year Of My Life

by patdbrendonn



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Bottom Ryan Ross, M/M, Mpreg, Top Brendon Urie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 17:30:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15645546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patdbrendonn/pseuds/patdbrendonn
Summary: 2008 was crazy for Ryan Ross. He got pregnant, Panic's second studio album came out, he got engaged, married, and gave birth in all one year.





	The Best Year Of My Life

**_January 2007_ **

 

No. 

Fuck no.

This fucking can’t be happening to me. 

 

I felt a tear run down my cheek as I stared at the pregnancy test. Multiple pregnancy tests, actually. I had about seven of them, all sitting on the bathroom counter, all positive or at least that second line trying to make its appearance. 

I knew this wasn’t a trick my mind was playing on me, I knew it wasn’t a real big deal either. I’m nineteen, almost twenty. It’s not like I’m fifteen. But, my boyfriend is eighteen, which might cause a bit of trickery when it comes to his mindset about children. I could come out and blatantly tell you he’s going to be happy, but we’ve never talked about kids. He has nieces and nephews that he loves, and me, well, I practically have nobody. 

Who do I tell? Do I go to a doctor or just like, go for a swim? My mind went blank, walking out of the bathroom and grabbing my car keys, running out of my tiny apartment and to my car, sitting for a few seconds before I actually started the damn thing, driving down familiar roads to my best friend's house. He should know something more than I do, right? As I pulled into his driveway, I sighed, getting out of my car and walked up the steps, knocking a few times before he appeared. 

“Hey, Ry-” Spencer said, smiling as he gave me a hug. “You seem tense, dude.” He pulled away, just looking into my eyes. 

“I’m pregnant,” I said quickly, feeling my throat become dry just saying it. He still just looked at me, blinking a few times before walking into his house, of course, I followed. 

“Does Brendon know?” He asked, sitting down at his kitchen table. I nodded no, resting my head in my hands. “Hey, don’t be down! Did you just find out or something?”

“I took seven goddamn tests, all came back positive. Spin, I’m fucking scared!” My head landed on the hardwood below me, tears flowing once again. 

“Hey, hey, Ry?” Spencer made me sit back up, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “Don’t cry. You don’t need it. Just- you need to tell Brendon! It’s not a situation that he deserves to know, he  _ needs  _ to know. The father of your baby needs to know about this so you two could plan a life.”

“But what about the album? The tour?” Spencer sighed, his hand on my shoulder. 

“Don’t worry about that right now, Ryan. That’s the future, we’re here now. You need to go tell Brendon.” He simply said. 

“What the fuck do I say? How the fuck do I tell him that he got me pregnant?” I yelled as I stood up. “Fuck! I don’t even know if he wants the damn thing!” 

“Ryan, Ryan, shut up. Brendon is mature enough to realize it’s a fucking human being! If you don’t trust your boyfriend, what’s the point of a goddamn relationship?” With that, I walked out of Spencer’s house and back into my car, pulling out of the driveway and down the road, driving down Brendon’s road until his apartment complex showed up in my vision, smiling a bit as Brendon sat outside with his bunny, Ethan. 

“Hey, babycakes!” He yelled, picking Ethan up and running over to me, him and the goddamn rabbit hugging me. 

“Hey… We need to talk.” Brendon pulled away, holding Ethan close to his chest. 

“What is it? Oh god, what’s wrong?” He asked as we walked to the bunny pen Brendon had outside. He placed Ethan in it, looking up at me. “Ry, what’s wrong?”

“Do you ever… Do you ever want kids?” I asked, causing Brendon to laugh a bit. 

“I haven’t given it much thought… I dunno- why? Do you?” Brendon stood up and smiled. “Why?”

“Just asking… Can you like- give it actual thought?” Brendon nodded, looking across the street. 

“I mean… With you? Like, me and you having a child? I guess I’d be open to it.” I found myself smiling. “Can I ask why again or are you going to ignore it again?” 

“We’re going to have a baby, Bren.” Brendon’s eyes slowly widened, looking deep into my eyes. 

“What?” I nodded slightly, placing a hand on my stomach. “Holy shit… Holy shit!” Brendon started to laugh as he picked me up, spinning me around as he kissed me. “Fuck- I was  _ not  _ expecting that! But fuck, we’re expecting!” Brendon ran and picked Ethan up, holding him up. “You hear that little fella? You’re going to be a big brother!” 

“I still don’t know why you have that damn rabbit.” 

 

**_March 2007_ **

_ Brendon says: Thank you Mom and Dad and the Urie-Sanft-Allred-Tucker fam for love and support, Ryan for always being there for me, Shane Valdes(z) and Regs, Shane and Vicki, Dylan the Master Dog, Ethan the awesome rabbit, Nacho and Maria, JJ, Gavin and the Maloofs, Tommy Cohen, that green gentleman, our little bean, HeartthRob, and anyone else who was an inspiration or muse in the process. Thank You. _

 

_ Ryan thanks: my band, Brendon for picking up after my pieces, my loving family, Juliette, Caroline and Andy, Jordan, Mom and Dad. Hobo for all the love, our little bean, all of my friends at home. Corey Catalano, Jeffrey Scouscon, and Rob for the endless supply of good vibes, least and last, that delicious Room tea. _

 

That was the first time it was ‘public’ that Brendon and I were having a baby. Our little bean. We knew we’d have to say something at some point considering I have a small build, the bump started to show almost immediately. It was there, the small bump of not fat, oh no, a fucking baby. 

After Pretty. Odd came out, the videos were filmed, and the tour dates were set, I decided that I could indeed tour. I just didn’t want to tour after I was five months. That was tolerable for the rest of the band and the label. 

The day Pretty. Odd officially released, I had an ultrasound scan. It was the first one Brendon was actually able to make it, to see our precious bean wiggling around in there. He was beyond excited to see it. 

He paid close attention when the nurse squeezed the gel onto my stomach and put the probe in it, moving it around until the baby appeared on the screen. Brendon smiled, moving closer to see the monitor better. 

“Look at it just movin’ in there!” The nurse laughed, looking back at us. “I’ve never seen a fetus this small move so much!” 

“It’s related to his father, already has ADHD.” I joked. Brendon playfully punched me in the shoulder, bending down and pecking my lips. “Does everything look nice?” 

“Everything looks beautiful, guys! I’ll say it’s going to be a very smooth pregnancy. Just get your injections and take your vitamins, you should be good.” She handed me a bunch of paper towels to wipe my stomach off, sitting up and smiling. Brendon soon helped me up, holding my hand as we walked out of the facility, walking back to my car. 

“I told my mom about the baby,” I said softly, looking down at Brendon. 

“Yeah?” He asked, watching me. “What did she say?” 

“That she was ashamed that I’m gay. I dunno, I hung up on her.” Brendon nodded. “I don’t know what my dad would say, though…” 

“But he knew we were dating before he passed. If he was okay with that, I’m sure he would have some happiness in his heart to have a grandchild around.”  I smiled, gripping Brendon’s hand harder. “Don’t make it up in your head that he would start to hate you or something. Your dad loved you. Even when it seemed like he didn’t, you still knew he did.”

“I know. I just wish he’d be able to meet our kid. People always say bad parents are amazing grandparents, so, I dunno. I miss him.”

  
  


**_May 2008_ **

_ Ryan Ross and Brendon Urie are engaged and expecting _

I loved the attention. People asking Brendon how lucky he was, how people at concerts gave us tips, baby clothes and toys. It was like everyone liked our unborn child more than the band. At one point, it was getting awkward to play the guitar, so, Fender actually reached out to me and offered to make me a custom one with a dent in the back so it could rest comfortably on my stomach. Thirty thousand dollars later, I fell in love with that guitar. 

Brendon proposed to me on the bus. Not the most romantic place in the world, but having our best friends surrounding us as we shared the most romantic evening of our lives, I couldn’t be happier. He kept it simple, sweet and goofy. I didn’t cry, but I almost did. But Spencer cried. He cried a lot

I was almost done with life by that point. I had people asking me if I was ready to pop because how big my stomach looked on me. Trust me, five months isn’t big, but when you weighed almost the same as a newborn puppy before, you will look like a whale. 

“You look fine, Ry,” Brendon sighed as he sat on the couch, watching me look at myself in the mirror. “Hey, at least you have an ass now.” 

“And love handles,” I moaned, trying to look at my back. 

“Something to grab while we fuck, hence the name, love handles.” I laughed, putting my shirt on and looked at Brendon. “But I love you. You look good with a little bit of meat on your bones.” 

“Don’t say that, you know I’ll lose all the weight a few months after the baby is born,” I said, walking over to Brendon. Once I sat down, I looked at my hand. The wedding band sat perfectly on my finger, Brendon’s hand intertwining with mine. Yes, we eloped. We are going to have a big celebration once the baby gets here, kinda a welcome party, our engagement party and wedding party in one. Brendon’s mom wasn’t  too keen on us eloping, but, you gotta do what you gotta do. I took Brendon’s last name. I was tired of being a Ross. Having family who disowned me. So, with the Urie’s, I was accepted and loved. What would you pick? At least my damn last name isn’t Roll.

Corky B. Roll. Fuck, I’m an idiot. And by the way, that’s the name for Brendon’s dick. Only because it has a small twist and I swear it smells like freshly baked bread.

Didn’t I say I wouldn’t tour after five months? Well, here I am, fucking touring. Every night my ankles and back hurt. Brendon would message me, so, I mean, there was an upside to it all. 

“Ryan?” Brendon called out from his bunk, causing me to get up and waddle over, seeing Brendon smile with his laptop open. 

“Dear god, if it’s another man getting fucked by a horse you can shove the laptop up your ass,” I said harshly. 

“No, no, it’s a house that I  _ might  _ have just bought.” My eyes widen as I took the laptop from him. I stared at the picture and somewhat fell in love with the outside. It’s a very light green with a red roof. “It has four bedrooms and two bathrooms… Only 1.5.” I slowly looked back at Brendon. 

“You paid fucking one and a half  _ million _ ?” He nodded. “You’re fucking insane.” 

“It’s in a good neighbourhood, good schools, big backyard for Ethan, a pool, and four fucking stories! I was already going to buy a house but when you told me you were pregnant, I just decided to save up a bit more and buy a nicer one. We both currently live in apartments. We’re married and in four months we’ll have a fucking baby.” I sighed. “It was my money, anyways, why does it matter?”

“Because, Bren, we’re a family, we’re partners… We should have split it. I love the house, I do, but you could have at least run it by me first!” I slowly pinched the bridge of my nose. 

“I’m sorry, Ry.” He said, almost in a whisper. 

“It’s fine. Just don’t go out and buy a fucking Lamborghini with crystals on it, okay?”

 

**_July 2008_ **

“How are my favourite people?” Grace beamed as she ran down the walkway, running up to Brendon and I as she hugged us. “Boy, Ryan, you’re getting really big!” 

“Three more months, hopefully.” Grace smiled, placing a hand on my bump. “It’s been kicking a lot today, so, I’m sorry if your hand gets broken.” 

“You still haven’t found out the gender?” She asked. 

“We want it to be a surprise, mother,” Brendon said. “We like surprises. Like, for example, finding out about the little gremlin.” He smiled, taking his mom into a hug. “We’re excited for it to come.” 

“Well, I have always wanted to see you as a father!” Brendon looked at me and sighed as his mom walked into the house. 

“How’s dad?” Brendon asked, looking around the living room. 

“Not the best… He’s not talking anymore.” She said in a tough tone. “I’m just thankful he’s still around…” I saw the sadness in both of their eyes. Brendon’s dad was diagnosed with Dementia three years ago, young, I know. But it was a year ago when he forgot Brendon. I’m sure he doesn’t know who Grace is anymore, either. 

Brendon has shed many tears about it. He’s angry. No one should have to be the age that Brendon was when his father forgets who he is. He’s angry at the world for it to let this happen. But of course, he’s come to terms with it… It was hard for him, but he did. 

Brendon grabbed my hand as we walked down the hallway and into the bedroom, seeing Boyd sitting on the bed, staring at the wall. 

“Dad?” Boyd slowly turned around and scrunched his eyebrows, looking at Brendon. “Dad, I’m Brendon… And this is my husband, Ryan. I’m your son. I’m a Urie, just like you.” Boyd muttered something that wasn’t English as he looked back at the wall, he just sat there. “We’re going to have a baby, dad, you’re going to be a granddad again.” Brendon let go of my hand and walked to the bed, sitting next to his father. “Do you remember me?” I felt my own heart break as Boyd nodded no. “Do you remember Kara? Kyla?” He nodded yes. “That’s good… I was born after them, in 1987. I’m 19.”

“Mhm,” Boyd mumbled, looking at Brendon. 

“I look a lot like Mom, don’t I?” Brendon asked with a smile. Boyd nodded, looking back at me. “That’s your son-in-law, Ryan. He’s seven months pregnant right now. With a little boy or girl Urie.” Brendon sighed as he looked back at his dad, grabbing his hand. “I hope you know I love you, Dad… So much.” 

“Hmm.” Brendon smiled, now holding Boyd’s hand with both of his. 

“Well… I think I better get going,” Brendon said, looking at me again, “I don’t want my husband to be in pain just standing there.” Brendon sweetly pressed his lips to his father’s cheek before walking out, me walking behind him. “Fuck, that was hard.” 

**_August 2008_ **

Two more fucking months of this shit.  _ Oh, being pregnant is a wonderful experience!  _ Anyone who says that or has said that can go blow their fucking brains out. This is miserable. I can’t leave the goddamn couch at this point. My back was constantly hurting. Everything hurt. I swear, even my fucking hair hurt. 

And you know what hurts more? Brendon’s dad passed away. I woke up to Brendon on his chair, spinning back and forth as he cried. When he looked at me, I knew. 

“H-He’s gone, Ry…” I slowly got out of bed and walked over to Brendon, bringing him into a big hug. 

“Bren… I’m so sorry…” I whispered as my fingers rustled with his hair. He just laid his head on my shoulder and cried, his hands on my stomach. That was his thing. That was our hug, I would hug him and he’d practically just hug the baby. 

The service was beautiful. It was a day that we looked back on Boyd’s life. Truly amazing. But I did find it kinda funny that Brendon’s dad was buried next to mine. It was a sense of purity to me. Or maybe a coincidence, but still.

On the way home, Brendon didn’t really talk. I didn’t mind it a lot, he needed his peace. 

 

**_October 2008_ **

Fuckin’ overdue, man. 

We tried everything. Sex did nothing, walking did nothing, bouncing on a yoga ball almost 24/7 did nothing. Everything our little hearts desired or could think of did nothing. I was ten days past my due date. The last two days I practically bitched and moaned about the fucking stretch marks on my stomach, thighs and waist. I feel bad for Brendon. By the tenth day, I was so done I practically dragged Brendon to the hospital so I could be induced. Surprisingly enough, they actually wanted to after my midwife came and told them I am  _ way  _ past my due date. 

Once that first contraction started, I felt relief that I was hours away from this ending. It’s been wild, sure, but I fucking hated it. If Brendon knocks me up again, I’m shoving it in him for almost ten months. 

“How are you feeling?” Brendon asked, his hand intertwined with mine. 

“Pretty good so far… I know that will change but I am just happy this whole thing will be over.”

Yeah, I was in labour for fifteen  _ fucking  _ hours. We had enough time for Brendon’s mother to drive down, have Spencer run for McDonald’s burgers and only a milkshake for me, and yet, we still had time to play fucking Monopoly. 

“Hey, fuck you, I wanted Marvin Gardens!” I yelled, throwing the board game off the bed. Brendon just sat there, sighing as he looked over at Spencer. 

“Well… That’s four and a half hours of Monopoly gameplay we’ll never get back.” Our eyes adverted to the door when Brendon’s mom walked in, her smile bright. “Mom! Hi!” Brendon got up from the bed and walked over to Grace, hugging her tightly. 

“Hey, Bubba! Ryan, how are you feeling?” She asked as she pulled away from Brendon. 

“It’s not hurting real bad… I’m surprised, though, I’m six centimetres dilated.” I looked up at the monitor, seeing my heart rate. “And I’m calm, so, yay.” 

“He’s making me very proud.” Brendon beamed, walking over to me. Grace smiled, handing me a small bag. 

“What’s this?” I asked, sitting up a bit to look in the bag. 

“A little gift! Open it!” I smiled, taking out tissue paper to reveal a picture frame with three places for pictures, two already filled. I stared at it, seeing newborn pictures of both me and Brendon. 

“H-How did you get this? The one of me?” I asked Grace, smiling a bit. 

“Your mom gave me all of the pictures of you. After she heard that you took our last name, she decided to just give up and give all of your stuff to your ‘new mom’. Well, I sorted it all out and found this picture… I thought it would be nice for you two to have the pictures of not only you two but of your baby as well.” 

Ten hours later, I found myself screaming bloody murder as I pushed. Brendon held my hand, his other dabbing beads of sweat from my forehead. 

“I FUCKING HATE YOU!” I screamed, practically wanting to kill Brendon. He just sighed, knowing this wouldn’t last long. But, do you know what was  _ really  _ pissing me off? The doctor would not stop calling me George. Fuck, can’t she take a hint that I like Ryan? Jeez.

“George, the head is almost out, jut breathe out the rest.” I glared at her, feeling like I would kill him, too.

“MY NAME IS RYAN YOU WHORE!”

October 22, 2008, at 7:37, I gave birth to a healthy baby boy. It felt like time went into slow motion as he was brought into my arms. Brendon cried next to me, resting his head on my shoulder.

“You did it, baby… I can’t believe he’s here!” Brendon cried, kissing my cheek. 

Brendon insisted we named him George Ryan. At first, I didn't want to, but when I realized it suited our son, I couldn’t say no. 

Three days later, Georgie was allowed to come home. The drive wasn’t too bad from the hospital, Los Angeles’ traffic wasn’t too bad. It was like someone made sure we would get home safe. Once we drove into the driveway, we realized this was going to be like this for the rest of our lives. Taking care of our child, our own flesh and blood.

Be better not become a stripper.

 


End file.
